Do You Remember Our First Time?
by sherlockllives
Summary: "Take it slow, okay?" he reassured, bringing his hand up to stroke through Sherlock's hair, Sherlock leant into the touch with a slight nod but was still pretty disappointed why he couldn't touch John right now. "Let me teach you first…" he reassured... John and sherlock reminisce about their first time together. Day 3 of the OTP NSFW Challenge


wow okay sorry this took a while to get done, i should carry on with daily uploads after this, it's just I spent a little more time on this than was expected.  
Anyhow this is day 3 of the 30 day otp nsfw challenge : First Time

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"Sherlock…?" John's mouth was full of biscuit when he'd spoken and crumbs spilled over his jumper in a way that anyone else would find clumsy but Sherlock found adorable, not that he would say that to John's face though.

"Mmm?" the detective drawled, looking up from the newspaper that he wasn't really reading, all pointless drama and obvious lies. John chewed and swallowed, his eyes tearing away from his laptop screen to glance over at Sherlock, who was stretched out on the settee.

"I read an article the other day an-"

"Oh please John, spare me, you know all the chemicals I use in my experiments are harmless most of the time." Sherlock sighed and John looked a bit annoyed.

"No, just, give me a chance…" He paused, noticing the crumbs on his jumper and wiping them off, taking his anger out on the offending baked good. "Right, listen it was an article about relationships…" Sherlock groaned and John paused.

"Even worse!" he complained but rested his newspaper down anyway. John gave him another wired look.

"Just hear me out…"

"I'm listening."

"Right…" he paused again, just to make sure Sherlock wasn't going to get up and do something else "It was saying that whenever a couple accomplice something new together then it has to be memorable, and it got me thinking, do you remember our first time together?" he asked, glancing back at his laptop screen momentarily before returning his attention on Sherlock.

Sherlock snorted arrogantly, crossing his legs over. John scowled.

"Look, I hope you're taking this serious-"

"John, I have an excellent memory, of course I remember our first time together. I never knew you had it in you to see a dead body but-"

"I was talking about sex Sherlock." John stated, deflated.

"Oh…" Sherlock looked a bit taken back, "Whatever would you want to know that for?"

"I just wanted to know if it was mem-"

"Never-the-less, it's the same answer." Sherlock interrupted, cutting John off for the third time in ten minutes. "How could I not? It was very good…" he grinned.

{****}

They had been 'dating'- if that's what you wanted to call it- for a few months now, during that time they had indulged in certain things that couples do; long walks through parks; going out for dinner; kissing until they were breathless and sharing a bed together, but Sherlock didn't yet feel comfortable to take the next steps.

Not until now anyway.

Being of the demi sexual 'variety', as Sherlock liked to label himself, it wasn't in his nature to want someone sexually until he had created a strong bond with someone. Being a demi sexual man made this even more concrete because, even if he felt like he wanted to, he literally couldn't get it up unless he felt this certain strong bond with his significant other and this led John, undoubtedly, to not want anything unless they both wanted it.

Today, however, Sherlock's libido seemed to have come back from its long summer holiday and it looked like it was staying here for a long time.

Before his libido had even unpacked its bags, Sherlock had come to the realisation that the way he was looking at his unsuspecting lover was different to how he usually did, as if a switch had been flipped somewhere deep in his personality.

John was making tea before he went to work, he was clad in the clothes he usually wore- jeans, dress shirt and jumper- but somehow they seemed to look different on his body today, more fitting, more…sexual?

It only took Sherlock a few seconds to identify what emotion he was feeling and when he did he almost embarrassed himself by gasping aloud.

"…Sugar today?" John was saying but Sherlock had been too worked up over what he was going to do or, more importantly, how he was going to talk to John about this to hear what he had said.

"I…um…I'm sorry?" he stammered, bringing his pyjama clad knees up to his chest and swallowing hard, feeling unnecessarily nervous. What if John was happy with having just a romantic relationship? What if, after all this, John was just homo-romantic and didn't like involving himself sexually with men? No, that was silly, him and John had discussed this many times before, so why was he so nervous now?

John blinked at him, it wasn't very unusual for Sherlock to ignore John, but to honestly not have heard what John was saying? That was worrying.

"I said do you want sugar in your tea today? Are you feeling okay?"

"No, thank you." Sherlock muttered and rested his chin on his knees, hoping that John would just ignore the fact that he hadn't answered the last question.

"Okay…" John obeyed, putting the sugar back into the cupboard and walking into the living room with their tea, placing Sherlock's on the side of his arm chair. "You didn't answer the last question…" concern laced his voice as he sat in the armchair opposite, resting his tea in his lap.

Sherlock scowled and rested his gaze on his mug, not bothering to unfold himself as he reached out for it, bringing it in front of his knees to stare at the steam rising into the air.

"Do you have to go to work today?" he pronounced rather more timidly than John was used to hearing, John smiled warmly but firmly at him, his eyes hard.

"Sherlock, we've spoken about this before, we need the money and if I keep having days off like this they're going to fire me."

Yes, of course he knew that but Sherlock really needed John to be here today, he needed to talk to him, talk about the new turn their relationship could potentially take and if he would be happy with that.

They both took a sip of their tea in silence, Sherlock wondered how he would convince John to stay at home and John wondered what had got Sherlock into such a clingy mood.

"If there's something on your mind, just tell me, okay?" John was using his doctor voice and Sherlock hated it, the only downside of John being so passionate about his work is that he wanted to doctor everyone. Mind you, Sherlock couldn't really talk, what with his deductions 24/7.

He cleared his throat.

"My, uhm, it seems that my libido has woken up, or at least I assume so, I mean, I don't really kn-"

"Oh." John cut off his babbling, a surprised look on his slowly blushing face. "Right." Not knowing quite what to do with his hands, John placed his tea on the coffee table and gave Sherlock a serious look.

"Are you sure?"

Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh.

"I think so, I mean my outlook on certain things have changed and I think that...of course, if you were to…um…" he trailed off in confusion, his face flushed with heat. John gazed at him patiently, encouraging him to go on with a nod. Sherlock took a deep breath and said, nearly all at once, "If you were to suggest sex to me right now I don't think I- or more like my body-would turn it down."

John clamped his mouth shut and there was a short silence which was broken by John chuckling.

"What?" Sherlock exclaimed, suddenly petrified that John was laughing at him.

"So that's why you wanted me to stay home then?" he teased but it was more endearing than it was harsh. Sherlock blushed deeper but smiled, relieved, hiding it with a sip from his tea.

"So then, Dr Watson…" The detective purred, placing his mug of tea on the coffee table, "Are you going to stay at home after all…or do I have to convince you?" Sherlock was excited that John had taken this so well so he was testing the waters, his heart beating nervously in his chest at the thought of being able to indulge in such an intimate activity with John.

John was visibly surprised and pleased all at once and it only made Sherlock want to continue, but instead he simply crossed his legs with a serious expression and waited for a response, after all, John was more skilled in this area than he was and the last thing Sherlock wanted to do was make a fool out of himself.

"Look, Sherlock, I really want to keep this job…" John continued to smirk though, parting his legs slightly in what must have been an unconscious gesture. Sherlock was almost giddy with excitement, his fingertips buzzing as blood raced around his body.

"Oh well then you leave me no choice…" Sherlock was really surprised his voice wasn't shaking, ever the master of self-control. Despite his cool demeanour, Sherlock knew very little about the art of seduction but he had studied enough texts on the science of pleasure to realise what would feel good or not.

With the fluid grace that Sherlock often possessed, he glided from his chair and strode towards John slowly, not breaking eye contact with the man. It was evident that John was already starting to become aroused, his quickened breathing, his dilated pupils, all very obvious.

Sherlock climbed into John's lap, sitting astride him and John would be kidding himself if that wasn't the sexiest thing he'd seen for a long time. John's body felt warm under Sherlock's and it made a shiver of delight pass through his spine. This bit was easy, they had done this before.

John didn't waste time with needless foreplay and instead grasped Sherlock's neck and pulled him down into a full on kiss, his tongue exploring Sherlock's mouth so deeply he could almost taste his partner's desperation.

Sherlock moaned helplessly into the kiss, the heady sensations making him go dizzy. However, something new was happening, something that Sherlock hadn't experienced since he was a teenager. Surely enough, John took Sherlock's tongue into his own mouth, sucking gently, and with a rather indignant moan, Sherlock felt himself fill out beneath his trousers. The gasp that next came out of his mouth was both one of shock and one of pleasure at feeling his slowly hardening member throb sensually.

John hummed into his mouth and recaptured his lips, rocking up more out of habit and being just as surprised as Sherlock was to feel an erection there. He broke off the kiss and studied the tent in Sherlock's pyjama bottoms. Sherlock felt almost humiliated but that feeling soon was whisked away as John gently rested his hand on top of his clothed cock, studying Sherlock's face contort in pleasure closely.

"Mmm, so you were right…" he purred, sounding about as aroused as Sherlock looked, his speech slightly slurred due to his lips being numb from such a thorough kiss. Sherlock couldn't react, all he could feel was John's warm hand resting on his cock.

He hadn't realised he's been holding his breath until he let out a ragged pant, beginning to make shallow thrusts into John's palm with a moan. John took his hand off him and cupped his cheek, bringing Sherlock's face close to his own so that he could look into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Don't feel that you have to just because your body is reacting to it." Sherlock knew that John was just looking out for him, but in the situation that Sherlock was in right now, it sounded like the most stupid question to ever ask.

"Of course I do John." Sherlock tried to keep his composure, frustrated at the fact that John's warm hand had disappeared. He tried to think about the situation sensibly, if only just to put John at ease. "And if I don't feel comfortable, I can always tell you." He hoped that that would put his nerves at rest.

Surely enough, John's brow softened and he leaned in again for a chaste kiss, or at least it was meant to be a deep kiss but as soon as John's hand returned back to Sherlock's clothed member, Sherlock reared away with a moan.

John growled deep in his throat in response, the noise going straight to Sherlock's cock and he felt it grow harder. The doctor held the hair at Sherlock's nape and brought his head down so he could place his mouth against his ear, a sensation Sherlock hadn't expected to feel so good.

"I think we should take this slowly, stick to something simple for now…" despite his very evident arousal, John still had his logical brain on and Sherlock felt the need to change that very quickly. Hoping to mirror John's movements, Sherlock plunged his hand down between them and, sure enough, ground his palm gently against John's becoming erection.

John stopped mid-sentence- something about wanting to respect his sexuality- and gasped in Sherlock's ear, thrusting forwards and grinding the heel of his hand gently against the head of Sherlock's clothed cock in return.

Both of them moaned loudly at the sensation but Sherlock was the first one to get frustrated, John's jeans were too thick and he had to get them off, now. Without giving it a second thought, Sherlock set to undoing John's flies. John hissed in response, gripping Sherlock's wrists to still him.

"Be careful, not so fast you'll hurt me." He breathed, carefully undoing his zip himself. Sherlock shifted slightly so that John could get more comfortable and stared down in wonder as John's underwear clad cock was revealed, suddenly he couldn't touch him fast enough.

John moaned slightly at Sherlock's enthusiasm but held his wrist once more.

"Take it slow, okay?" he reassured, bringing his hand up to stroke through Sherlock's hair, Sherlock leant into the touch with a slight nod but was still pretty disappointed why he couldn't touch John right now. "Let me teach you first…" and with that, John tugged down the waist band of Sherlock's pyjama bottoms and Sherlock's cock sprung free.

The detective hissed as his hot flesh was met with cold air and his face heated up with excitement and embarrassment, this was the first time John had seen Sherlock erect. John studied him wide eyed for a while, realising Sherlock's embarrassment and giving him a reassuring smile.

"You're beautiful." He praised and, oddly, Sherlock felt himself become harder, as if he was peacocking under the words.

Sherlock gripped the head rest on the arm chair, parting his thighs with a desperate noise as his cock twitched with want. He hadn't felt like this since university, and even then he had ignored it until it went away.

John chuckled, moving his hands down Sherlock's sides and squeezing his thighs lightly, making Sherlock squirm slightly in a ticklish manner.

"Please John, just get on with it." He begged, feeling frustrated at the heat that was coiling in his stomach. John arched an eyebrow at the bossy detective, lightly trailing his dry fingertips up the underside of his cock.

The reaction was almost instant, Sherlock's hips jerked powerfully into the electric tough, his jaw clamping shut at the friction made by John's calloused fingers.

"That might feel good now…" John all but panted, squeezing his own cock gently to relieve some of the pressure before reaching behind him and rooting between the cushions of the armchair, "But I assure you, without lube that'll get uncomfortable pretty quickly."

Sherlock was just about to get annoyed at the fact they had no lube with them when John's hand returned with a small tube of the stuff, crudely labelled 'lube tube'. It was only a few squirts worth, about enough for one activity.

Medical lube, Sherlock concluded. John had been sneaking medical lube from work and hiding them around the house like an X-rated Easter egg hunt. Sherlock couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, you can never be too prepared." The doctor chuckled, waving the lube tube in the air as he smiled up at Sherlock, uncapping the tube. Sherlock's laugh stopped almost comically quickly as John coated his fingers with half the tube, keeping direct eye contact with Sherlock as he did so. Sherlock swallowed hard with anticipation as John placed the tube on the arm of the chair and gripped his thigh tighter with his free hand.

"This might be a bit cold at first. I can't really use my other hand so-"

"Oh for god's sake John!" Sherlock cut through impatiently, sounding more wrecked than he did angry and John's mouth twitched up in a smirk, giving Sherlock's shaft a long, thorough stroke from base to just under the head.

Sherlock gasped, moaning as his head fell back slightly and his hips canted up into the warm fist of John's hand. Such a simple motion made Sherlock's head spin and he whined, silently begging John to repeat the action.

John did so, slowly, once more down and then up again, this time stroking his thumb over the sensitive frenulum of Sherlock's cock in such a way that it ripped another moan from Sherlock's lungs, his hands gripping the back of the chair so hard that his knuckles were almost white.

"O-oh god, John, please do that a-OH!" John didn't need to be told twice, he set into a rhythm of pumping Sherlock's cock in his hand, twisting his grip on the up stroke so that Sherlock would receive dizzying friction to the sensitive head of his cock.

Sherlock panted and moaned, writhing in John's lap. The wet, slippery noises that John's hand was making on his cock only served to turn him on even further. They were barely a minute into it and Sherlock was already incoherent, his stomach muscles fluttering on display to John where his shirt had ridden up.

John groaned softly under his breath, his neglected cock almost impossibly hard and leaking into the fabric of his boxers as he watched Sherlock's face slowly become more and more absorbed in total pleasure.

His balls were drawing up close to his stomach and John realised, with a smirk, that Sherlock was close already. He slowed down his strokes to something more sensual, gliding his thumb in circles over the frenulum until Sherlock's legs were shaking and all he could say was John's name.

With a loud cry, Sherlock came through what must have been the most powerful orgasm of his life so far. His stomach muscles contracted, his arms tensed and he was only slightly aware of John's hand running through his hair as he saw stars. John was still working slowly on his cock, milking him through his orgasm as strings and strings of come painted his shirt and John's hand.

Just when pleasure was bordering on over stimulation, John stopped and Sherlock very nearly liquefied into him, panting loudly and feeling a cosy warmness settling in the pit of his stomach. John caught his shoulder before he fell into him, hissing slightly as his stomach bumped against his painfully erect cock.

Sherlock sighed happily, wrapping his arms around John's shoulders to press his cock further into his body, rubbing his stomach over the underside of it slowly. John moaned at the friction, his hand still placed in Sherlock's hair as the other gripped the back of his shirt, unknowingly wiping lube and god knows what onto it.

"Ah, Sherlock, just…please…" John spluttered, not quite knowing what he wanted but knowing that he wanted it, and he wanted it now please.

Sherlock, having come down from his post-coital haze, reared his head off John's shoulder and grabbed the 'lube tube', hurriedly squeezing the rest of the contents onto his shaking palm. He leant back slightly to allow John to pull his jeans and boxers down to mid-thigh and then nervously surveyed John's cock.

It was stood, flushed almost an angry purple with neglect, against John's stomach, pulsing fiercely with want and leaking pre-come down the length. Sherlock felt his gut twist with arousal and with no warning, mirrored John's devilish pace.

"Oh fuck!" John shouted, taken aback by the sudden assault of pleasure. His chest heaved and his hands, not knowing quite what to do, flung to the arms of the chair, gripping them with white knuckles.

Sherlock tried his best to mirror what had felt good to him, twisting on the up stroke to tease the swollen head of John's cock. In response to the immense pleasure caused by that action, John whimpered loudly, his eyes slamming shut as he fidgeted in his chair. His breathing had become more and more laboured and his brow was furrowed, gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat as Sherlock continued his surprisingly experienced rhythm.

John could feel his teeth grinding and his chest sticking to his shirt, knowing that he couldn't last much longer.

"Oh, oh god, Sherlock, I'm, I'm gonna-!" he trailed off with a ragged shout, his hips stuttering as Sherlock sped up, giving the head of his cock shallow thrusts every now and again, watching John in amazement as his mouth hung open and his head rocked back against the chair.

John came with a strangled shout of Sherlock's name, all his energy draining out of him and being replaced with white hot pleasure. When he recovered, he opened his eyes to see Sherlock smiling down at him with dark eyes, his fringe was stuck to his forehead with sweat that John hadn't noticed before.

There was silence for a second and then the both of them broke out into the biggest grins.

{****}

"Hmm, yes very memorable indeed." Sherlock muttered to himself before picking up his paper and returning back to the false drama and lies of London.

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Please leave a comment if you enjoyed because i'm a thirsty attention whore (just cus i said it doesn't mean you can)  
no but feedback is important, as i'm sure you know :D  
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